


Just Me and My Shadow. And an Interloper.

by rainydaysanddustybooks94



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Stanford Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-03
Updated: 2013-02-03
Packaged: 2017-11-28 03:21:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/669701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainydaysanddustybooks94/pseuds/rainydaysanddustybooks94
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Jess moved in with Sam, it wasn't like she hadn't already known Sam had his...quirks. But it's one thing to sit next to him in class, watching him repeatedly straighten everything on his desk every time something falls out of place, and it's quite another to turn the corner into the kitchen and watch him startle, staring like he forgot he wasn't alone in the flat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Me and My Shadow. And an Interloper.

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Sam Winchester, Jessica Moore, or Supernatural itself, although I kinda wish I did. None of this is mine except the plot.

     When Jess moved in with Sam, it wasn't like she hadn't already known Sam had...quirks. But it's one thing to sit next to him in class, watching him repeatedly straighten everything on his desk every time something falls out of place, and it's quite another to turn the corner into the kitchen and watch him start, staring like he forgot he wasn't alone in the flat. When asked, Brady admitted it had been a problem when they were roommates.

     Every morning they woke up together, Sam would startle. Sometimes she'd turn the corner and Sam would blink, staring like he had no idea how she'd gotten inside the apartment. Sam makes the bed and does his own laundry because he's more concerned about creases and corners than she is. The bed is military neat and his clothes are all folded a certain way. Jess never objected because sometimes it calmed him down when he was nervous. She could picture him as a kid, being alone and nervous about it, needing something to do with his hands.

     There was a painting that had come with the flat but Jess had tossed it, because it always hung crooked and it bothered Sam so much when he was in the same room as it. He would fidget constantly, which sometimes turned to pacing when it wouldn't straighten. Jess wondered if his need to keep things straight was a leftover childhood thing, like a metaphor for trying to fix his relationship with his dad. She promptly decided she'd spent too much time working on her homework for Psych 101 and opened up _Dracula,_ instead. 

      When it's too quiet, Sam taps his fingers along to a song Jess can't hear, and sometimes she catches Sam talking to himself, making conversation,  while puttering around the flat. It doesn't worry her but it does sadden her. All Jess can think about is that monkey that rocked back and forth to mimic the soothing motions its mom had made, because the monkey was upset and alone. (She really hopes Psych 101 ends soon because it's kind of taking over her mind) Jess immediatly tries to counter this, by making it a habit to constantly chatter at Sam, or, if she's in another room, to sing loudly and freely along with the radio. 

     One night, Sam got a call from his brother (Dean, four years older than Sam, and works with his dad. Didn't say anything when their father kicked Sam out) and he is drunk or high or _something_. Sam hangs up hurt and frustrated, and Jess watches as he scrubs their whole home clean until everything is shining and they're both dizzy from the fumes. Briefly, Jess wonders how the maids of the motels reacted when Sam was a kid and stressed and cleaning motel rooms. (That much he had told her. They moved around a lot, never had a real home. Brady had known that one, and bought them some stupid crochet 'Home is Where the Heart Is' thing as a flat-warming gift) (Sam had protested heavily but sometimes Jess catches him looking at it with nostalgia written across his face like Sharpie on a postcard screaming I MISS YOU) 

   

     Finally, on a sunny day barbecue, Sam and Jess are curled up together under a tree, listening to their friends laugh and holler at each other. Jess squirms, lifting her head. 

     "Sam?" He hums softly, stroking a large hand over her hair. 

     "Why are you so used to being alone?" Jess doesn't hide the crack in her voice. Sam wasn't really relaxed before-he never relaxes, always feels like he's a second from jumping to his feet-but now he's positively radiating tension. Jess isn't going to apologize, she's not, because her mind keeps circling to the look he gave her this morning when he woke up alone but she walked out of the bathroom and surprised him. 

     "Jess..." She watches him carefully. After a moment of internal struggle, Sam sighs, and explains that since he was thirteen, his brother had always joined their dad on business trips (and Jess still doesn't know what the family business is; she's starting to wonder if Sam's family is part of the Mafia or something). Sam was left alone a lot, anywhere between one week or four, and because of the moving around, he never really made many-any-friends.

     A lump rises in Jess' throat. Fiercely, she grabs Sam's head between her hands and kisses him like she can erase all of his pain that way. When Jess pulls away, she presses her forehead to his, and looks him in the eyes. 

He has beautiful eyes. 

     "You won't be alone again," she promises. "I won't leave you." 

     Sam smiles, love blooming across his face, but it's bittersweet and Jess knows he doesn't believe her. 

Good thing they got time. 


End file.
